Devotion
by Merina Thropp
Summary: Boq discusses flowers, devotion, and a certain blonde Gilikin girl with Miss Elphaba. Gloq, oneshot.


**Boq discusses flowers, devotion, and a certain blonde girl with Miss Elphaba. Oneshot, friendship piece, Gloq.**

**Whilst creating the musical Wicked, Stephen Schwartz said he was forced to cut many characters from the book, but always favoured keeping one in particular: Boq – who I honestly think never gets enough credit for his steadfast devotion to Galinda, even when his life has really taken a turn for the monstrous, and he is doomed to spend all eternity made of tin.**

**There's just not enough fanfiction out there for him, and as I've been playing him on a Wicked twitter role-playing game for the past few months (see profile page links if you're interested!), I thought I'd publish this little oneshot of a friendship moment between him and Elphaba, which I originally wrote back in autumn of last year. It's nothing spectacular, just something I wrote for fun. Enjoy!**

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"Roses. Those are her favourite flowers, right? So – red, white, yellow, or pink?"

I sighed deeply. "Pink. Come on, _Biq, _even you must know that!"

"Ok, ok then – rose pink, cherry, pale cerise, strawberry pink, baby pink -?"

"- for Oz's sake, as long as it's vaguely flesh-coloured -!"

"- but I want to get her the right _shade _–!"

"_Boq._"

I closed my book with a loud, exasperated _snap_, looking up for the first time to meet the anxious gaze of my munchkin acquaintance. He was standing in the centre of Galinda and my dormitory – which wasn't allowed at this time in the evening, of course, but frankly I wasn't sure he or even I cared – with a large, colourful magazine clutched in one small hand, and a leather pouch which jangled with coins when he moved in the other.

He bit his lip, hard, glancing worriedly down at the magazine page again, then shot me a desperate look.

"I want them to be the _right _ones_, _Elphaba – I've been saving for simply months and months and months for this! They have to be perfect_, _just perfect, and after all, she deserves nothing less…"

"Boq," I sighed again, pushing my book aside and reaching for another from the mammoth pile sitting to the right of me on my bed. "Honestly, aren't you asking the wrong personhere? Why don't you consult Pfanee, or Avaric, or someone with a tad more _experience_ in this area…?"

"But you know Miss Galinda best!" he half-moaned, his pitiful baby-blue eyes beseeching. "Come on, Elphaba, please, I just need some advice –"

"I have told you more times than I would care to count, Boq, I have absolutely no idea what kind of speciality flowers Galinda would appreciate most – pink, pink, or pink, it's all the same to me!"

"It's all the same to her,too," he mumbled, face wounded now. "She didn't even _look _at the chocolates I bought her for Valentine's Day –"

"Mm, yes, she gave those to me, they were delicious –"

"_Elphaba –_"

"I'm teasing, _Biq_, I'm teasing!" I cackled, unable to stop myself; the opportunity had been just too perfect.

Then I noticed his expression – and quickly stopped. I sighed again. "Sorry. That was cruel. I'm sorry, Boq."

He flushed a little at my sincerity – well, I suppose it _was _probably the first time the boy had ever seen me apologize for anything – his little hands twisting together around the bag of coins he still clutched. "That's all right, Miss Elphaba."

Then he sighed again, shaking his head hopelessly. "You know, I don't think she even recognized me when I gave her my birthday present last month – a pink taffeta scarf, at that, and it was just perfect! – she just smiled a bit, all vague, and flounced off with Tiggular–"

I snorted in half-disbelief, half-exasperation. "Boq, for Oz's sake, at least pick a time to give her these precious flowers when she's not with_ Fiyero_…"

"She's always with _Fiyero…_" he muttered desolately, turning and trudging towards the open door of the room with the catalogue flopped limply over one small arm.

I rolled my eyes to the ceiling – but couldn't help feeling a small pang of pity for the poor lovestruck idiot as he made to leave them room. I called after him.

"Strawberry pink, then."

He froze. Then whipped round, so fast I jumped, his expression poised somewhere between shock and delight. "Pardon, Miss Elphaba?"

"Strawberry pink, _Biq_," I grinned, jabbing a finger at his magazine. "They're her favourite fruit, strawberries, and she's got two lipsticks and a nail varnish of the same colour name. And bring them round here for her Sunday evening – Fiyero's got detention."

The silly boy's face split in a smile like the sun coming out.

"_Thank _you, Elphaba," he breathed rapturously, sounding so delighted I had to laugh. He winced a bit as my cackles filled the room once again – but tried to smile all the same. I had to give him credit for that.

"Sunday night then, Biq."

"Sunday night, Elphaba."

I gave him a last smile as he turned for the door. "You really are completely and utterly hopeless, you know that, don't you?"

He shook his head, eyes misting over as he smiled slightly, wistfully. "She _will_ understand one day, Elphaba, you'll see. I won't give up hope. Not ever, I swear by Oz. Someday, she'll just _have_ listen, won't she? And even if she really isn't ever able to return my affections, not ever…well…I suppose I shall just have to stay by her side and make sure that whoever she _is _able to harbour affections for is worthy of them, and will treat her with just the respect she deserves. And when she finally works out Fiyero's just isn't going to stick with her any more than he did with the hundred or so previous poor girls he's ruined…"

I looked quickly down at my book, frowning. "You try telling that to her. She is – and I loathe saying it, truly I do, but it's the plain truth – besotted."

"I'll make her see sense, someday," he insisted, eyes even mistier and farther away than ever as he thought of it. "One day, she'll understand that he just isn't worth her, not even a hundred of her. He never could be, never. And she'll understand. She will. She _will_."

I didn't know what to say to that.

"Or at least…"  
Boq paused then; and I could hear the worry, the dread ridden through his voice as he spoke his next words.

"I hope she does. One day…"

"Before he breaks her heart too," I murmured, very softly, suppressed anger lacing the edges of my words at the thought of how much pain that would cause Galinda then. She didn't deserve to go through that. Not ever.

I shoved the unpleasant thoughts away, hid my face behind my book, and determinedly forced myself to being reading once again.

"Goodnight, Boq."

"Night, Miss Elphaba."

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